


To be fearful of the night

by Burntblackfeathers, Children_in_a_Fairytale



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Modern AU, cw knives
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-05
Updated: 2018-11-05
Packaged: 2019-08-19 06:06:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16528886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burntblackfeathers/pseuds/Burntblackfeathers, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Children_in_a_Fairytale/pseuds/Children_in_a_Fairytale
Summary: Written for jehanparnasse week 2018 - Chiaroscuro





	To be fearful of the night

Montparnasse leant against the wall under the streetlight. He held a cigarette in one hand, its end emitting a soft glow, and the light from above him framed his face. He felt restless. There was a hum under his skin, a sharpness to his thoughts that kept him there under the streetlight, waiting.

Eventually, a set of footsteps echoed down the street, still loud in the perfect silence of the night. Montparnasse grinned to himself from where he stood, dropping the cigarette and crushing it beneath his foot. Finally.

The figure from whom the footsteps came remained in the shadows, but Montparnasse didn’t mind. He followed, not bothering to leave the light of the street. They were slender, and walked unhurried but not confidently. That was okay, Montparnasse was in no hurry either. 

After some time, they turned into an alleyway. Montparnasse smirked, and felt for his knife as he followed after them, the light from the street flashed off his blade as he entered the alley. 

“You know, it isn’t safe to walk alone at night.” He began, breaking the cool silence between them. 

“I could say the same thing to you,” came the reply, “besides,” they continued, still in the shadows, “I feel perfectly safe. There is nothing like the gentle embrace of the night to quiet the soul.” Their voice was pleasant, if not distant. Montparnasse stopped.

“The night is not so gentle.” He said, light still at his back, “And neither am I. You don’t have to worry on my behalf.” 

“Who said I was worried?” Their voice was coming closer now, and Montparnasse imagined that he could see the glint of a smile as they finally approached.

The light here was not so bright as to let the alley be visible, but not so little as to have them be encased in shadows. Montparnasse could see them. 

They were physically shorter than he was, but had no less of a presence. Long red hair and pale skin that stood out against the dark of the night. But it was their eyes which were the most striking to him, they seemed to contain far more than what could be held in so small a vessel, a deep, deep green. He felt that hum again, settling under his skin; perhaps there was another task for his restless hands. 

“What is so pretty a thing as you doing in the shadows?” He smiled, easy and dangerous, “You belong to the light.”

They hummed, “The brightest flame casts the darkest shadow”

Flame indeed, they were alight. “Aren’t you afraid of the dark?” He said, closing the distance between them and almost touching them, creating a line with his body that pinned them to the wall.

“From the dark I was created, and from the dark I shall return. Besides,” they said, leaning against the wall and letting one of their legs slip in between his. “There are all manner of things to be done in the dark”

Montparnasse smirked, dipping his head down. He ran his hand down their side and let it rest on their hips. They smiled up at him, letting their fingers trace a path under his coat, and then spun out from under his arm, laughing as they went. 

“You really should be more careful,” they said, “there are thieves about tonight.”

Montparnasse snapped his head up, feeling for his wallet. It was gone of course, he could see them laughing as they walked further into the night.

“I left my number” they called back towards Montparnasse, “you should call me sometime.”

Montparnasse reached into his pocket and found a slip of paper in place of his wallet. It contained a phone number and a name. “Jehan” he whispered to himself, smiling. And then a moment later, “Jehan, you bastard, give me back my knife!”

**Author's Note:**

> This probably marks my descent into Jehanparnasse so expect a lot more of that. Thank you for reading, I'm on tumblr as burntblackfeathers and pentopaperhandstokeys, come and say hi! Leave a comment and make my day :) - burntblackfeathers
> 
> Thanks to the wonderful Burntblackfeathers for taking my "I have a very vague idea and I want to write something" and helping me turn it into a story. I hope you enjoyed my first foray into Jehanparnasse, I am ahartfulloflove on tumblr if you want to say hi. - Children_in_a_Fairytale


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